Bathroom Scene Redux
by logicallylivid
Summary: What if things had gone differently in that crucial HBP bathroom scene? What if things had gone the… Dramione way?
1. In Which I Get Wet (Not in the Good Way)

Chapter One

Hermione POV

I swear, I don't know how I get in so much trouble sometimes.

It's not even my fault, most of the time. I mean can a girl cry in a washroom in peace? No, a stupid Mountain Troll has to fuck that up completely. I try to help my friends and what happens? I end up petrified, traveling through time, tied up at the bottom of a lake, and engaged in battle. Honestly.

I thought this year would be different. I would spend my year getting the best grades I could, attempting to manage my hair (always a fail) and perhaps not have to battle the forces of evil. Course, that was too much to ask.

So here I was, free period, last period of the day. I had a long study session planned for myself, which would start after a quick break to go to the loo. As always, I went to Moaning Myrtle's. It was closest to the library and after all that happened there I was quite attached to it. And Myrtle's not too bad if you're polite and not talk too much.

As I walked in I could hear someone else quietly... crying? That couldn't be Myrtle, when she cried, you could sure as hell hear from miles away. And I thought I was the only one (living) who used this as a sob spot! Ah well, must be the acoustics. I figured I should go see if the occupant of the washroom was unharmed and such. Prefect, you know.

So I picked my way over there, minding the water on the floor (no clue why, you'd think with all the magic they'd fix that), and approached the figure who was hunched over a sink.

The person in question looked up and made eye contact with me in the mirror with wide grey eyes as they heard me approach. Wow awkward, it was the one and only Draco Malfoy. Goody gumdrops. I would stumble on the Sworn enemy of Harry is a washroom. And one that by association, didn't like me either. He didn't seem to like anyone, perhaps that's why he was crying? Somehow I doubted that. He seemed to be in the middle of a breakdown, red rimmed eyes, clutching a sink, and utter desperation on his face until he saw me, that was replaced with malice and... anxiety? I had caught him in a terrible moment after all, he looked like he really didn't want to deal with me, and that his self control had snapped. I would have to tread carefully it seemed, one hostile move from me and this riled up blondie would be sending me to the hospital wing in a matchbox. I had to think about my words logically and ignore the blatant elephant in the room called 'hate'. Deep breath.

"Granger," he hissed, with poison in his eyes (not literally, obviously), if looks could kill!

Wow, this was awkward. I don't think I'd ever talked one on one with Malfoy.

"Um, hi." I really didn't know what to say, and I still really had to pee. What was I supposed to do now? Did I ignore him (awkward)? Confront him (awkward, and potentially suicidal)? Comfort him (awkward)? Leave (awkward, with my bladder)?

I kind of just stood there, and waited for him to do something. He continued glaring at me.

"Er, are you alright?" I blurted out. Ugh, curse my awkwardness with people, this is why I prefer books and cats! Wow, my life was _sad_... Anyways, Malfoy was kind of assessing me with slitted eyes, as if I was about to jump and stab him. Was he interpreting my unsure face as hostile? Probably. Guh, I really had to pee. This is a problem.

Before he could say anything, I jumped in. "Well, uh, I kind of really have to use the loo, so, um, excuse me." I scurried down the short corridor of stalls and went into the furthest one.

After relieving myself, I headed back to the sinks. Malfoy was still there, though he looked a tad bit calmer, which is to say still as calm as a puma in a cat carrier. Ever seen that? I have, it's not a fun sight. They get really vicious and snarly and such. Its quite dangerous. Not as dangerous as say, cliff diving, provided you keep your fingers away. But cliff diving is more thrill seeking than dangerous. Though if I was thrill seeking, I'd prefer swimming with sharks. They are such cool animals. Though everyone thinks they're dangerous and aggressive, when they're relatively lonerish. Wow, my train of thought just derailed.

I stopped at a sink a few down from Malfoy's and washed my hands. I washed them thoroughly for two minutes, humming the birthday song twice, just like mum taught me.

I must have hummed louder than I thought, because Malfoy was staring at me like I was fresh out of Arkham Asylum. I get that look a surprisingly large amount.

"Well Malfoy, it's been, uh, great to see you. Do you, um, need anything? Tissue? Visine? A cookie? Ooh, I bet you want a cookie. Cookies always make me feel better when I'm down, and boy, you look down!" he was looking at me with that same expression, so I reached into my backpack and grabbed a tin of cookies I had stashed in there. "I made these myself. Sort of. They're those Pillsbury place and bake ones, so mostly I did nothing, but yeah. The house elves let me use their ovens in exchange for never trying to free them again, so I usually have a stash with me. Also, I've discovered it's good to use to bribe Harry and Ron with. Do you want any?"

He replied by staring at me and slowly asking "Granger, are you high?" His eyes narrowing again.

I could see him getting suspicious again. I had to avoid more hostile stares and probably an impromptu duel. Quick Hermione, do something irrevocably insane, stupid, and distracting. At least I was good at that. So I faked a guilty expression and looked around shifty eyed. "shhh!" I mock-whispered, "don't let them coppers hear ya!" using a bad Brooklyn accent. For some reason, a phrase that always amused my little cousin Nate.

Malfoy stared a bit more at me, looking a bit startled, and surprised me by bursting into uncontrollable, riotous laughter.

"Granger you are nuts!" he choked out between laughs. I had no clue what to do here, I was standing in a damp washroom with a box of cookies in my hands and my best friend's second worst mortal enemy was rolling on the floor laughing/having a mental break down at me (not literally, because that floor is gross). So I stashed my cookie tin in my bag, and swung my bag back on my shoulders. Being a klutz, I didn't realize how close I was to the counter until my bag bounced off of it and swung back to my side, the momentum of the swing causing me to fall to the floor with quite a nasty splash.

Ick! I was soaked on my whole left side! I then noticed my actions had caused that laughing fool to break down into even more laughter and now he was doubled up making inaudible laughing-wheezing sounds. I was just about to epi-pen him in the leg when his laughter died down and he straightened up a bit. He was still sporadically chuckling, but he seemed to be breathing again, so the asphyxiation threat passed, I would say.

He clucked the counter as he righted himself, "Granger," he wheezed, "I never thought I'd say this but thanks for the laugh, I needed that!" he had a smile on his face, the remnants of his laugh attack. That was an odd sight.

"Er, you're welcome?" I stated, carefully, lest he break down again. I was quite convinced his sanity might not all be there, not gone like mine, but still straight-jacket worthy.

He sighed, and turned back to the sink, gathering up his stuff. Chuckling to himself every once in a while.

I couldn't hold it any longer, the curiosity would kill me! "Er, Malfoy?" He glanced at me, though without any malicious expressions. I took that as a good sign and proceeded. "Um, why were you crying then? Are you okay?" I asked carefully. I didn't want him to blow up at me or something.

Surprisingly, he didn't get mad. He sighed again and had a faraway look in his eye. "Granger, sometimes you have to do what you don't want to, because you have to, for the ones you love."

"Got that right, sister." I said pulling myself up onto the counter beside him, and sitting with my legs dangling.

He glanced at me, looking a bit pissed again. "I don't know why I told you that, not like you'll understand." he sneered.

"Au contraire, young Draco, I understand perfectly."

"Doubt it," he snorted.

"Seriously Malfoy? Does facing a three-headed dog, a chessboard of doom, a basilisk, a hippogriff, an escaped convict, homicidal mermaids, some pretty fucked up death eaters in a hall of breaking glass, and possible EXPULSION sound like things one does for fun? I know exactly what it means to do things you don't want to do, for the ones you love. You may not believe it, but me and my friends live it. And we may seem like stuck up heroes, but I hate it, we all do. Risking your life seems easy after the fact, not so much when you're doing it."

He seemed to deflate after my little speech. He exhaled loudly and seemed to exhale out all his anger. Now he just looked like a weary, depressed, and overworked teenager. I'd seen that before.

He hoisted himself up onto the counter beside me, shocking me quite well. He sighed for the millionth time, and was quiet. I sat with him in quiet for quite a bit of time. Thank God I didn't have any more classes today.

After a bit, he quietly spoke again. "It's hard, you know. Doing what's right. Everyone thinks it's so easy, but sometimes you have no choice. It's do or die, along with your family. I can't deal with it, it's killing me. And if it doesn't _he_ will. God, I don't know what to do."

I saw a tear leak out of his eye. Without thinking, I reached over and wiped it away, startling his attention towards me.

"Hey," I said softly, "It may sound clichéd, but we always always _always_ have a choice. And no matter what, there's always help out there, you just have to pluck up the courage to ask for it, or be humble enough to accept when it's offered to you. It's hard. Life may seem hopeless, but you have to realize that doing the right thing is a choice that everyone has to make. And sometimes, people choose wrong, because doing what's right is almost never easy or simple. But choosing the right path, though difficult short term, is what makes all the difference in the long term. You have to think of where you want to be in years to come and work for that. Keep an ultimate goal in mind, and fight for it. We are all fighting for safe and happy futures. But if we lose, what will the future be like? So there comes moments in everyone's life where that dedication to that goal is tested. If your dedication isn't strong enough, your path falls. But war makes you realize that that dedication, even though most people don't usually think of it as a great motivator, is truly worth fighting for. So we fight, as we will keep fighting until we have achieved our goals, until our world is safe. But you have to decide where you want to be in all of this. Will you be fighting for safety and mundane happiness or power and control? Because that's all this coming war is."

Malfoy stared at me for quite a while after my spiel, a strange look on his face. After a time, he commented "You're wise, Hermione Granger."

"And you're a good person, Draco Malfoy." I replied sagely.

He snorted in disbelief. "No, I'm not. I'm not wise or brave or strong. And I certainly don't have the courage or humbleness to do what's right." He looked down. "I really am not a good person."

"Hey, Malfoy, don't judge yourself by your past mistakes and wrong decisions. Judge yourself for who you are, not who you've been made to be. Think. Given the choice, would you do the right thing?"

Malfoy stayed silent. I tugged his chin up to look at me, his face an impassive mask, but his eyes a swirl of emotion.

"Would you do the right thing?" I whispered. We both knew we weren't speaking hypothetically anymore. I stared into his eyes and watched the emotions pass through. Doubt. Fear. Anxiety. Confusion. Before settling on steely determination.

"Yes." His answer was no more than a breath, but I could see in his eyes that it was a sincere and true one.

I beamed. "Okay then. Draco Malfoy," I said, hopping down from the counter and standing facing him. "I can see you've been put in a tough situation, would you like my help?"

I stuck my hand out at him, offering a handshake. He looked at it for a few minutes, as if to test whether or not I was being sincere, but I didn't back down at his scrutiny, nor did I waver.

He appeared to brace himself, then gently took my hand and shook it lightly.

"Hermione Granger, I would like your help, please."

I could tell the huge amount of effort that one sentence took, and the amount of pride that his upbringing had instilled on him he had discarded with that one gesture. I was enormously proud of that boy in that moment. I would make sure he got his help. That one gesture cemented that fact in me that despite a clearly terrifying upbringing, lack of moral support from his parents, and general jerkishness to the world, Draco Malfoy was a good person, and I would help make everyone, him included, realize that.

Why I was so adamant about this I didn't know. Maybe because I was tired of this war affecting us. This was not our war to fight, yet we were the ones fighting it. I hated to see the effects of it, and this boy was clearly one. Or maybe it was just the good Samaritan part of me rearing its head. The mother hen inside me that loved to take care of people, and hated to see them suffering. Call me a softie, but that's who I was. Maybe it was just common human compassion. Enemy or friend, stranger or familiar, Gryffindor or Slytherin, here was a person in need and I was a person who could help. If not me who would? If someone else had walked into the bathroom instead of me, what would have happened? Perhaps fate lead me here, I was one of the only people who thinks logically enough in this school to look past my hatred and pride, perhaps fate lead me here because it knew I could help, that I would help? Maybe it was my belief that no one is truly born evil. That circumstances and chances affect much more than we give credit? And given the chance, one could properly become themselves, when removed from such influences.

Whatever the reason, I would help. Call me weak, call me pathetic, call me naive, but I prided myself a decent person. And a decent person would help.

But first if I was going to help, I needed help. I needed details. I knew Malfoy didn't quite trust me, but that was okay. I first would need to know his situation to help him. I didn't know the specifics, though I inferred the gist. I'd have to make it super clear that I was not going to tell anyone unless he was okay with it first.

I wasn't in the game to make friends. Regardless of feelings, logic comes first. That was the Hermione Jean Granger motto, and I'd be damned if I didn't follow it, even if my friends might disagree. I hoped they loved and trusted me enough to accept my judgement when the time came to tell them.

We planned to meet the next day, Malfoy still in his slightly humbled (if a humble Malfoy isn't batshit crazy, I don't know what is) weird state. I felt quite bad for him. Clearly the stress of /everything/ got to him. That's happened to me a few times, so I could empathize. Which was such a strange sentiment. I can't wrap my mind around all this, I need to sit somewhere quiet and think.

So I left Malfoy in the washroom, with the promise that he was okay (temporarily mentally stable) and left to find a good nook to think in before dinner. It's amazing how much my word view was altered in 2ish hours.


	2. In Which I Ruminate, And Eat Lasagna

I walked into the library quietly, returning Madame Pince's small smile of welcome (she was nice to anyone who respected books, librarians were odd that way) and walked to one of my favorite spots in the library. A little padded window seat that overlooked a grassy field. You could see the Quidditch pitch in the distance, and the expanse of the beautiful blue sky, with the rising peaks of mountains in the distance. It was a beautiful scene. The seat was narrower than most, which was why most people avoided it, but it was the perfect size for my unfortunately very petite frame. The seat was also avoided because it was in the dust-covered and unused household and homemaking charms and spells section. Not popular. This made the spot perfect for uninterrupted thought.

Sitting on the bench, I dropped my still slightly damp bag on the floor, and sat sideways, pulling my feet up on the bench and leaning against the side wall.

So much had happened in the last few hours that my head was still spinning. Half of me was shouting at my brain that I was stupid and that helping Malfoy was not only helping the enemy, but also betraying my friends.

The other half was rationalizing that what I did was logical in my kind nature. I was a compassionate person. Perhaps that was my hamartia. It would probably lead to my downfall, my shouting half said.

But deep down, I knew I had done the right thing. Draco Malfoy may have been a rotten stinker of a child, and a plain bully growing up, but after meeting his father, I kind of understood why. We as people are quite subject to our upbringings. And Malfoy being bad is as inevitable as Ron being good. It's how they were brought up and influenced by their families. I had never met Mrs. Malfoy, but I was willing to bet she was not the happy motherly figure Mrs. Weasley was. Even my own upbringing influenced who I am. I love books and knowledge and learning, that was how my parents brought me up. They had similar loves for academics and raised me like so. We were always going to the library or reading, my house was always quiet. And so that's how I am. I shuddered to think of what kind of home Malfoy came from if he was so mean.

But as much as our childhood shapes us, we can rise above it and be our own people. It's hard but doable. Harry, despite his neglected and lonely childhood, turned out quite the hero. Even Eminem, the muggle rapper, for god sakes, rose above a terrible upbringing and homelife to make something of himself and give his kids a better home! What if they were never given the chance? And are we really going to condemn Malfoy to a cruel fate, for being a product of his upbringing? Yes, he didn't turn to the good path, but defying your family is hard. Can we blame Ron for staying on the good path and not defying his family?

My head was spinning in circles. So much of my perceived notions had shifted, I hadn't even realized. Everything seems so black and white until it's not. Up to this point, we had been good and Malfoy and the Death Eaters had been bad. But now, seeing that Malfoy was not completely gleeful being evil? It shocked me.

The library lanterns flickered to life, and I realized with a start that it was almost time for dinner. I was tempted to skip and continue pondering all the moral dilemmas presented to me, but I didn't want to worry Ron and Harry. Plus I was starved.

Getting up from my lovely perch, I grabbed my bag and headed to the Great Hall, dinner would be just starting when I reached there. I merged with the other students entering the hall and spotted Harry and Ron, a free spot in front of them.

I sat in my spot and greeted my friends, who were chowing down like there was no tomorrow, Ron in a particular frenzy of food.

Casting him a despairing glance, I carefully served myself some lasagna (yum) and mashed potatoes.

"So boys," I said, slicing my food, "how was Quidditch practice?"

As they regaled their amusing antics from practice, I glanced up and to the left, quickly and discreetly searching for Malfoy. I spotted him, and took in his appearance. I noted that while he still didn't look all that put together, he wasn't sitting and staring at some point in the distance. He was eating a bit and chatting quietly with a Slytherin next to him. I smiled inwardly. His skin was still pale, but not to the point of mimicking a bleeding anemic's. His hair looked to have a bit more shine to it too. He still had massive bags under his eyes and was a bit too thin to be normal, but I was glad he appeared to be doing a bit better, maybe a bit less stressed.

I rejoined the boys' conversation and was soon smiling and laughing along with them. I missed the glance the sickly blonde gave in my direction, as well as the slight smile that morphed his features for a pittance of time.

After dinner, I joined the boys in our common room for a few games of chess (Ron won all the games he played, I won against Harry), and then headed to my dormitory, which I shared with Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. We mostly got along, but they were a bit too chatty and gossipy for my taste and I was a bit too studious for theirs.

Climbing into bed, I once again puzzled over my moral dilemma, falling into a deep but troubled sleep.


	3. In Which I Learn Some Facts

I woke up the next day at my normal time, which was far earlier than most students in this school, after showering and a quick fight with my hair (I lost), I headed to breakfast.

Breakfast at Hogwarts was one of the simple pleasures I love most in life. The castle in the morning is so fresh, quiet, and airy, I loved it. I basked in the serenity and sat at my house table, making myself some cereal and pulling out a book. I noted that there were the usual few students and two teachers eating, some hardworking Ravenclaws and some young Hufflepuffs, as well as professors Snape and Flitwick.

Turning to my yummy cereal and thick book, I felt quite calm. Calm enough to take on the day, perhaps not, but at least I wasn't panicking. The morning was usually the only time I fitted in any recreational reading. I read anything from muggle fiction to wizarding non-fiction. Today was a muggle novel, _Animal Farm_ by George Orwell. My mother had owled it to me (though I didn't own an owl, my parents did, even if it was odd for them. They contacted me often, sending me letters, notes, sugar-free sweets, and the occasional book or odd and end), I was quite absorbed in the novel, and as usual didn't notice students start to trickle in. Nearing the end of breakfast, Ron and Harry staggered in, bleary eyed and yawning. Ron sat across from me and Harry beside me. I closed my book and greeted them, which they replied to, mumbling. I smirked; Harry and Ron were hilarious in the morning, like little kids. It's amazing they didn't choke with all the yawning they did.

After they stuffed food into themselves and chugged coffee, we were set to go to class. Ugh, potions.

6th year Gryffindor/Slytherin potions class was the worst thing ever. We had recently been assigned partners, and every class we would have to work with someone new. This was "because the field of potions is a field of group contributions, and we would eventually have to work with people we didn't like, so might as well deal with it" to paraphrase Slughorn.

Last class was terrible. I had had to work with Pansy Parkinson. Ugh, that girl was insufferable. She had squealed at all the ingredients, refused to do anything and then ruined our potion anyways. I hoped I would never have to work with her again.

Shortly after we arrived to class, Slughorn waddled in and presented our assigned partners. Harry got Daphne Greengrass, Ron got Pansy (I feel bad for him). I got assigned Blaise Zambini, who I'd worked with before. He was alright, quietly doing his work. Downside was that he was so tall the top of my head reached just above his elbow, so I could barely see his face without getting a crink in my neck.

All in all, potions went alright, despite the fact that I was completely distracted by the situation of the wealthy, arrogant blonde two tables away and our impending meeting.

After a mildly successful Potions, dull History of Magic, fascinating Transfiguration, lunch, too long Charms, and Interesting Ancient Runes, it was time for the meeting.

Malfoy and I decided to ditch the girls washroom (lest someone find us, talk about awkward questions) and agreed to meet in the Room of Requirement. Malfoy knew about it, I assumed, from crashing our DA practice last year. He volunteered setting it up.

So here I was, pacing the seventh floor, thinking 'a good place to meet Malfoy' as per instructions.

The door appeared, twice as tall as me and intricately carved. I grasped the magnificent door handle and slipped inside.

It was gorgeous. I didn't know where Malfoy got his taste but everything _worked_.

The walls were a dark blue wallpaper with white sconcing, there were gilded mirrors and paintings on the wall, and in the centre of the room, facing a huge fireplace was an elegant yet inviting couch. The room screamed opulence, but the overall effect wasn't overwhelming, it was the perfect balance of livable and rich. There were three doors leading from the room, on the right wall. I could see Malfoy sitting on the ginormous sofa, a pensive look on his face as he stared into the flames of the fireplace.

So I headed over to the sofa, enchanted by the room. As I was staring at the particularly magnificent chandelier inlaid with real diamonds and candles, I heard a chuckle, breaking me out of my reverie.

Malfoy was watching my captivation with amusement.

I collected myself and adopted a serious expression. I sat myself down on the opposite end of the sofa to Malfoy and got down to business.

"So Malfoy, I suppose the best place to start all of this would be you explaining your situation to me, and don't leave any details out!"

He sighed and nodded, looking hesitant. "Well, um, I suppose it all begins with the jaunt you and your friends went on at the end of last year to the Ministry. It had been my father's job… to get the prophecy and get it back to... Er... You-Know-Who. As you obviously know, my father failed, and You-Know-Who was_ not_ happy. He wanted very badly to punish my father for his failure, so he hurt him in the worst way possible, through his family. He gave me the task to... Well, to kill Dumbledore. And told me that if I did not succeed, my mother and I were to die. So he pretty much expects me to fail, thus my father loses that what means most to him. On the off chance I succeed, then yay! You-Know-Who still wins, and we probably get to live. So naturally I'm shooting for that. But the stress from that, not to mention that a) I don't want to kill anybody, and b) Dumbledore is so hard to get near, leads me to stressing the fuck out, because if I fail, me and my mother are dead. So failure is not an option. But I can't see anyway to succeed either. I just can't do this! I can't handle it anymore! I don't want to kill Dumbledore, and I just want me and my mum to be safe!"

He finished his monologue, as he hung his head and clenched his fists. Harsh tears flowed down his cheeks. I had been listening with my hand covering my mouth in shock. This was horrible, and much worse than I expected.

I unfroze and carefully reached out and gently rubbed Malfoy's back. I could not help but feel an enormous amount of sympathy for him, similar to what I usually feel for Harry, that why would fate be so cruel as to deal them such horrible cards in life; and enough to ignore the history we had and try to offer him some small measure of support.

"Oh Malfoy, I'm so sorry!" I said, I had no idea his situation was so dire! If someone had given me the "job" to kill anyone, most important Wizard in our world or not, I would be a wreck. No wonder Malfoy was completely off his rocker! In his place I totally would be as well.

"So Malfoy," I started, after we had both collected ourselves. "I guess you have a few choices on how to proceed now."

I helped him sit up a bit straighter and continued.

"So you can continue on this path, keep attempting to kill Dumbledore and stay on the Dark side. Tell me first, do you believe and agree in all their ideals?"

He thought about that for a few minutes.

"Well, keeping in mind what you said about speaking my opinion and not what others have trained and taught me, I guess I don't know. I've never really thought about what I believe, I've always... I guess just accepted that what my parents have taught me is right."

He paused a moment and glanced at me like he expected me to attack him for that. I knew he had more to say, so I nodded and waited for him to continue.

He took a deep breath and continued. "I guess, looking at it logically, it makes no sense. How can you prove someone to be inferior based solely on something they were born with and can't control? It's like people who make blonde jokes. I suppose none of this makes any sense. But at the same time, it's difficult to fight what you've accepted as blind truth all your life. It's like if someone told you short people were short because their beds are smaller. You could go on believing that forever, even though you're wrong. And if someone tries to correct that, it's hard to accept, because it's always been fact to you."

I nodded again, I understood where he was coming from, and that it was a hard stance to take with his family.

Malfoy sighed and continued. "I guess what I'm saying is that I don't really have a concrete opinion on this war besides what I feel is wrong."

He looked at me expectantly, clearly anxiously waiting for my response.

"I'm not sure about what the others will think," I started, "But I do know that I do want to help you. You seem open to it, and I don't think the dark side is quite cutting it for you. But Malfoy, it's going to be a tough road ahead, I don't even know if I'll be able to help you in any major way, though I certainly will try. People will be seriously attempting to slaughter you, if you defect."

He nodded and looked at his lap. "Yeah, I understand, and I think I get how hard the battle's going to be. But at the same time, I don't think I can, much less that I want to, stay doing what I am. I'd rather risk everything I have and die on my own terms than to be forced to live on anyone else's any longer."

He hesitated, as if he was debating whether or not to say something.

"Malfoy?" I prompted.

He hesitated again than looked at me, straight in the eye. "Granger, there's a bit more to this."

Seeing my confused expression, he inhaled deeply, and started rolling up his left sleeve.

I was filled with dread, knowing what this meant, hoo boy this was very much bigger than I had expected.

Malfoy flipped his arm baring his pale forearm that contrasted with the inky, branded Dark Mark marring his smooth skin.

It was my turn to inhale sharply, as I glanced at his face. His face was an emotionless mask again, but the fear of rejection was present in his eyes.

I took another deep breath and clasped his left hand in both of mine, looking down at his Dark Mark as if I was addressing it.

"Malfoy, I may not know much about you, but I do know that I will help you if I can, or get you the help you need. But I need to know if you're okay with involvement."

I shifted my gaze to his face, locking my eyes with his.

"This has gotten much bigger than what I can personally do, I need to know if you're okay with Dumbledore, or Harry, or the Order getting involved in this. It's the only way I see that we can do anything for you."

He looked conflicted, but spoke in a clear voice. "I expected they would get involved. While I may not be happy about it, I know, clearly, it's what's going to have to happen for me to survive this war, and so it's something I have to accept."

I smiled, released his hand, and stood up. "Excellent. I was hoping you'd be on board. I need to get back to my common room, and I'm sure you do too. I'll put some thought into how to proceed next, and be in touch with you soon, as soon as anything happens."

I strode to the door and was halfway there, when Malfoy called out quietly to me.

"Granger?"

"Hmm?" I said, turning halfway to look at him.

He was staring at me, a blazing look in his eye.

"Why?"

"Hmm? Why what?"

"Why are you doing this, why for me?" His voice was emotionless, but I could see the puzzlement on his face.

"Everyone deserves a second chance, Malfoy, and anyone willing to do the right thing deserves some help along the way"

I turned back to the door, then turned around again.

"And Malfoy? You trusted me with all of this. That's a trust I'll never betray."

I turned around once more and strode out of the room, leaving a puzzled and surprised Malfoy in the vast room behind me.

* * *

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	4. In Which I Struggle With Hallways

The next few days proceeded as normal, classes, homework, hanging out with Ron and Harry. But under that was my planning for Malfoy. I spent hours theorizing, revising plans, scrapping and redoing plans and researching.

I was stuck between whether to go to Harry or to go to Dumbledore. Either could help him, but Harry could be a problem, and if I was not the one to explain Malfoy's defection to him and Ron, I'd be happy. He would no doubt be an ally if I got him on my side. If I could convince him to help Malfoy, anyone else would at least listen. Harry could also be a help with Dumbledore. I'd never spoken to the man one on one and didn't really know what to expect from him. He would certainly be easier to talk to than Harry about all this, seeing as Dumbledore didn't have any sort of personal hatred for the Malfoy heir.

Either way, all my plans seemed to be leading to telling one of them about the situation. I couldn't figure out a plan that didn't involve at least one of them.

Another problem I'd been puzzling over was that of Malfoy's mother, Narcissa Malfoy. Malfoy had made it pretty clear that her safety was one of his top priorities. As far as I knew, she was hidden away with her husband and the other Death Eaters. How we could get her out, get her to safety, and keep her safe were all questions I had no answers to. But I hoped the Order would help. If she could stay at a safehouse or Grimmauld place, it would make keeping her safe much easier.

Then there was the problem of Lucius Malfoy. Draco didn't seem too concerned about him, seeing as it was the elder Malfoy's actions that had gotten them all into this situation in the first place. But he might be on his son's side after all. If he would defect, then there would be one less Death Eater to fight, especially one so close to You-Know-Who himself. After all, Narcissa might refuse to go with us if her husband didn't receive similar treatment. But then again, Lucius may not be interested in leaving the Dark Side. All in all, time would tell with those two.

Right now, I had to deal with Malfoy's mission.

I was currently walking back from the Library, thinking about what my next step would be. Ugh, how was I going to talk to Harry or Dumbledore? What would I even explain to them?

As I was contemplating (and nearly ran into a suit of armour), a 'Good Evening, Ms. Granger' shook me from my thoughts.

I was startled to see Professor Dumbledore himself making his way down the hall towards me.

"Lovely evening, isn't it?" The Professor said, smiling serenely at the sunset occurring through a large window to my left.

"That it is sir," I replied, thinking fast. Dumbledore was looking more likely than Harry to listen to what I had to say at this point, and this might be my only chance to talk to catch Dumbledore to get anything done.

I plucked up some of my Gryffindor courage and began.

"Sir, do you think me and… someone I'm concerned about could meet with you sometime this week to discuss some, er, delicate matters?"

Dumbledore looked a touch surprised, but smiled welcomingly at me nonetheless. "Of course, my dear. How about Thursday evening? I may find myself craving licorice wands that day."

I nodded and returned his wide smile, understanding his hint of his office's password, and after some pleasant small talk, returned on my journey to Gryffindor tower with a slightly lighter load on my shoulders.

At least I had a small portion of my problem planned out. Now I just had to convince Malfoy to talk with and accept help from his family's number one enemy, who also happened to be the man he had been assigned to assassinate.

Hoo boy.

* * *

The next day, a Monday, I had to find a way to meet Malfoy and explain everything that was going on. This was much easier said than done. Slytherins and Gryffindors did not associate in general, but I'd never realized to what degree that was true until I was trying to seek one out. Even in class everyone seemed to keep their distance, and unlike potions, which I didn't have again until Wednesday, most classes were very segregated, with the two houses sitting as far from each other as they could in a room with immovable desks.

I had written a note earlier that I kept trying to slip to Malfoy, but even that proved futile. Either a Gryffindor would get in my way or I just couldn't get close enough to Malfoy and the few Slytherins who seemed to group with him.

In the end, I ended up waiting in a side hallway off the Entrance Hall waiting for him to get back from Herbology. If I timed it right, I could lean out and drag him into the well positioned hall before anyone could notice.

Luck was with me for the first time that day, because groups of students streamed in from the grounds, with Malfoy lagging a bit behind, clearly not wanting to talk to anyone.

As he just passed the doorway, I quickly leaned out of the hallway, latched onto his wrist and yanked him suddenly into the hallway.

I had been so preoccupied with not being seen by anyone I hadn't considered Malfoy's reaction at being dragged suddenly by someone he didn't see into a deserted hallway, because as soon as I'd managed to pull off my plan (which was quite smooth, if I do say so myself), I found myself heavily pinned to the stone wall with a wand jammed into my throat and my own wand thrown on the floor metres away.

I stared into Malfoy's grey-blue eyes for a beat, with a startled (and slightly frightened) expression in my own. I saw him quickly realize the situation, and he released me from his iron hold, allowing me to rub my sore neck and retrieve my scattered wand.

"Yeah, sorry," I said, chagrined, "didn't really plan that all the way through."

He looked a bit surprised at my words, probably at the fact that I was being polite and not counter-attacking or yelling at him. "Yeah, um, I'm sorry for, you know," he gestured generally at his own neck, looking uncomfortable.

I let him look uncomfortable for a few more seconds, because my neck really was smarting, before waving his apology off and getting back on task.

"Oh, it's fine. It was really hard getting close enough to talk to you as it was. I just wanted to let you know that I arranged a meeting with Dumbledore, if you still want to go through with this."

He once again was surprised. "So soon? I thought it would be… well I didn't expect so quick. But yeah, that works. Better than Potter." He replied, actually cracking half a smile.

I rolled my eyes, then regarded him seriously. "But Malfoy, are you sure you want to go through with this? I mean, you'll eventually have to work with Harry and Ronald the rest to the Order on this, if all goes well. It's not going to be fun."

Malfoy took a deep breath. "Yes Granger, I'm still in. There's not many options left for me anyways. I've got to change sides. It has to be now." He said, which seemed more like he was reassuring himself than me.

I gave him the time and arranged where to meet him, and neither of us noticed the person just around the bend who had clearly heard our discussion, and was sneaking away with our knowledge, to do some thinking of their own.


	5. In Which We Have Tea

Over the next few days I felt very unsettled. There was nothing I could do at that point but hope that everything would happen according to plan and Dumbledore would accept or believe Malfoy.

I still hadn't addressed the problem of Harry (and Ron), but since Dumbledore was going to be in the know, letting my best friends know could thankfully be put on the backburner.

In potions on Wednesday, I got partnered with Daphne Greengrass, who seemed to spend the class distracted, which I was fine with, as it allowed me to produce a perfect potion (though still not as good as Harry's, who was still cheating off that damn book he'd found). I watched out of the corner of my eye as Daphne cast a few covert looks at the Boy-Who-Lived in question. The looks didn't look malicious, so I wasn't worried, but I did wonder what was on the mind of the distracted brunette beside me.

I shrugged it off, and made my standard after-class trek to the library. As I neared the library, it was my turn to be unceremoniously yanked into a deserted corridor; and also my turn to attack. Before my mind registered what was going on, I had automatically twisted out of the grip on my wrist and jammed my quickly drawn wand into my attacker's ribcage, as it was unlikely I could reach his neck, because I was a rather short person.

It was of course, Malfoy, and I quickly stashed my wand and straightened myself up, a bit embarrassed at my knee-jerk reaction.

"We have got to stop meeting like this," Malfoy grumbled, rubbing his probably bruised ribcage.

"Agreed," I said, my mind already whirring with ideas on how to contact Malfoy without one of us getting injured. Owls were too obvious, and we could rarely get close enough to the other to slip notes back and forth. I considered a device like the coins I had designed for Dumbledore's Army last year.

"Anyways," Malfoy continued, "I need to talk to you. Meet me in the Room of Requirement; wait at least 5 minutes after I've left to go there."

I nodded in agreement, and he took off. I leaned against the wall, waiting for my time to be up.

I idly considered our communication problem again. This weekend was a Hogsmeade weekend, so I'd look for suitable communication devices there. The spellwork was simple; I'd cast the Protean Charm on so many of those coins, it would just be a matter of using a slightly more complex version of the spell so messages could be transferred back and forth.

Five minutes should have been up by then, so I ventured up to the seventh floor, making sure to use a different route than the one Malfoy seemed to have taken.

Once again I paced, and was presented with a beautiful room. It didn't look like we were in Scotland in April anymore. Upon opening the door, I was inside a sunroom, bathed with warm light. The room was decorated with whites and wicker furniture, and the room looked out over green rolling hills with a bright blue sea in the distance.

Again, Malfoy chuckled at my wide mouthed gaping at the beautiful creation he had done.

I glared at him for finding amusement in my wonder. He ignored me, gesturing me to sit down, and then offering me tea.

I looked at him pensively, until he noticed and said 'what' defensively at me.

"Oh nothing really. It's just, this is really weird. We're sitting together having tea. Together. Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. Who knew the day would ever come. It seems like just yesterday I was taking great pleasure in slapping you across the face and now look where we are." I sighed wistfully.

Malfoy nodded, and then stared at me contemplatively. "You know Granger, I think my mother's going to like you."

I was startled. "What?"

He waved my bewilderment off. "Nevermind, let's get to work. I asked you here to discuss not only what we hope to accomplish in Dumbledore's office, but also what the plan will be after that."

I nodded, setting down my tea cup and pulling a small, worn, leather journal out of my bag.

"I've come up with about 17 different scenarios about how to deal with the fallout of your switching sides will probably go, 7 of which as worst-case scenarios. 4 are if everything goes immediately to hell in a handbasket, 3 are iffy at best, and I believe there are really only three we want to happen, and should make happen."

Malfoy seemed to be all out gaping at me, but I ignored this, plowing on. I was really used to the gaping response when I presented anyone with a portion of my mind, nothing new.

"The first scenario is contingent on your father not wanting to leave the Death Eaters, and your mother being perfectly fine to leave and switch sides. In this case, she would be stationed at any safe house, or headquarters, depending on the depth she wants to be involved. I understand she and her oldest sister are not on the best of terms, so accommodations will be made accordingly.

The second scenario is one in which your father doesn't want leave the Death Eaters or switch sides, and your mother doesn't want to either. In this case, we could end up having a slightly more hostage/kidnapping-esque situation, if she doesn't cooperate, though I doubt it would come to that (that's worst-case scenario 6), seeing as, from what you've told me, she seems genuinely concerned for you. In this case, it would probably end up being that she's placed at a safehouse, nothing of import is discussed with her, and her communications are strictly monitored. Though this would be the case to some degree in all scenarios.

The third scenario is one in which your father is willing to leave the Death Eaters as well. Now, depending on the situation and hostilities your parents present, they could end up being housed together or separately, from you as well."

I paused to gauge Malfoy's reaction. He seemed to be following along quite well, despite the fact I had suggested kidnapping his mother in one situation.

"I don't know how you managed to think of all of these, but yeah, sounds good. Though I think your scenario one is the most likely. No matter how much my father values us, his position with the Death Eaters is far more important than us. He's always had indifference toward me. My mother, while she was never the motherly sort, still obviously loved me. She was just not natural at raising me, I do understand that now." He sighed.

"Well now, in terms of Dumbledore's office," I said, flipping a few pages in my journal, "I think we should establish a complete story and goals we wish to accomplish in the meeting first…"

We continued to discuss the finer points of what we wanted to happen in the meeting, both sincerely hoping that this important meeting wouldn't be going in the direction of one of my hell-in-a-handbasket scenarios.


	6. In Which 90s Movies Are Reviewed

An hour later and Malfoy and I had finished discussing every conceivable angle of tomorrow's meeting. I was feeling ready for the meeting, no matter what was thrown at us. I was dedicated to make Malfoy's case.

But now, I was exhausted. All I wanted was a warm blanket, a really good movie, and some hot cocoa.

The thought had just entered my mind when the room suddenly started to move. Malfoy and I quickly leapt up, wands at the ready.

It was good timing on our part, because a second later all the furniture disappeared. Another second and all the décor was wiped out, leaving us in a bare white room for a split second.

In another second, a U shaped couch that looked very plushy materialized in front of me, in another second, blankets and pillows filled the room and a ginormous TV appeared. A floating tray containing two mouthwatering looking cocoas appeared in front of us.

I squealed in excitement and launched myself onto the sofa. I stretched out and piled a few blankets on top on me. Everything was soft, plush, and ultra-relaxing.

"What is all this?" I heard Malfoy's bewildered voice. He was still standing frozen in the same place.

I laughed a bit at him. "Malfoy, haven't you ever had a movie night? It's a great way to relax!"

He shook his head and put his bag down reluctantly, as if he didn't really want to touch anything.

I rolled my eyes at his pretentiousness.

"C'mon Malfoy, there's nothing else we can do today. Let's have some relaxing fun."

I patted the spot beside me. He still looked hesitant, so I patted it again, smiling encouragingly.

He sighed, as if this was a huge deal, the drama queen.

Eventually his royal highness made his way over and flopped ungracefully onto the spot beside me.

The hot cocoa drifted over, which I accepted happily.

Malfoy eyed it as if he was confronted with the most poisonous poison known to man.

My forehead scrunched up in thought for a moment, and then something occurred to me.

"Malfoy, have you never had hot cocoa?"

Malfoy looked defensive, "and if I haven't?"

I shook my head, "that's just too sad." My playful smile kept him from retaliating, and instead he accepted the hot cocoa and flipped one of the blankets over himself.

He took a sip and looked pleased, so I counted this gentle induction into muggle things for Malfoy as a pass.

I picked up the remote beside me and pressed play, wondering which movie the Room of Requirement had picked out of my subconscious.

As the movie opened to _10 Things I Hate About You_ I grinned, definitely one of my favourite movies. A snarky modernization of _The Taming of the Shrew_? Yes please! I snuggled into the comfort of the couch, ready for my nice night.

"Ah, Granger?"

"Shh Malfoy, just watch. You'll like it."

The hours passed, as the movie wrapped up I wiped a tear from my eye, I was a sucker for a good happy ending. And Kat never failed to make me laugh.

Over the course of the movie I had shifted enough to be leaning my shoulder against Malfoy's. It was surprisingly cozy.

As the credits rolled, I stretched my arms and legs.

"Alright Granger, that was pretty good. The Australian bloke was funny."

I grinned widely, and Malfoy surprised me by gently bumping my shoulder with his.

"You did something right," he said in explanation, "don't let it get to your head."

I adopted a look of mock scandalization. "Why I would never!" Then I broke down into giggles, Malfoy's chuckles joining me.

The moment of camaraderie, if not friendship, was a much needed break from the rush and stress of the past few weeks.

My unwinding usually came in the form of sitting with Harry and Ron in the evening. While we didn't have lots in common, they were my best friends, and sometimes their very presence made me feel happier and calmer.

But this interaction with Malfoy was new. Hanging out with someone in a completely relaxed setting was something I could definitely get used to. While I didn't mind discussions about Quidditch or girls occurring before me, it was nice to chat with and hang out with someone on my terms.

It was admittedly strange to be here, kicking it back with Draco Malfoy. That wasn't a very usual event in my world.

And yet, I found myself enjoying our time together much more than I had expected, and was actually looking forward to hanging out with him again.

What the hell was happening?


	7. In Which My Hair Goes Through A Lot

The next day dawned bright and sunny, a fact I noticed as I stood on the window ledge to get my other sock off the top of my armoire. This involved me taking a leap and grabbing it at the apex of my jump. My celebration of my successful athletic prowess was of course, premature, as I landed flat on my face on the cold stone floor.

Grumbling, I pushed chunks of my hair out of my face. Today was not a day I wanted to deal with my hair. The impending meeting with Dumbledore that day had me completely frazzled.

This wasn't even my situation. If anyone should be worried it was Malfoy, not me. But due to my excessive need to invest in the matters of others, I had run out of fingernails to chew in nervousness.

And so I quickly braided my hair, pinning the braid into a bun, and saying a quick prayer that the hairpins would stay in my hair all day.

I shucked my shoes on and headed over to the Great Hall. Despite my disastrous morning, I was still one of the first people at the Gryffindor table. I perused the selection of breakfast foods, choosing waffles and piling strawberries onto them. As I chowed down to the blissful words of _Lord of the Flies_, students started to trickle into the hall.

I had 4 classes to get through, then a break, and then I could grab Malfoy so we could get this meeting started. The anticipation was one of the worst parts of any plan. So much could go wrong, and so much could go right. Hopefully Dumbledore wouldn't view this as an attempt to infiltrate/destroy the light side. Yeah, that would be one of those worst case situations.

Harry and Ron dropped into the seats across from me and I asked them about their transfiguration essays that were due today. I hadn't caught them before they went to bed yesterday, and so in a matter of seconds, Harry was hastily injecting sentences into his essay and Ron was scribbling one down, as he hadn't started it yet, despite the fact that Transfiguration was our first class of the day.

If only they did their homework as soon as it was assigned, like I did, then there's no opportunity to forget an assignment. I greatly disapproved of enabling them, so there was no copying going on, though I did help them verbally as much as I could.

As we navigated the crowded halls towards Transfiguration, a group of Slytherins passed by us. I automatically looked for the tall blond amongst the group and caught his grey eyes. Apparently he'd been looking for me as well.

He looked worried, his forehead creased, so I smiled brightly and reassuringly, which he returned after a beat, then brushed passed me.

"What are you smiling at?"

Harry asked, eyeing me confusedly. Thankfully he didn't look like he had actually seen who I was smiling at.

"I'm excited for Transfiguration! Professor McGonagall said that she'd be giving the grades of our last test back today and I want to see how I did. I think I managed to get every question, though the last one was confusing…"

I trailed off to Ron's groans and Harry's panicked expression. Thankfully it seems that the topic of my glee was off the table as the impending doom Transfiguration would bring distracted the boys.

* * *

After Transfiguration (I got perfect marks on my test, yay!), Charms, a hurried lunch, Herbology, and Arithmancy, I had an hour break before the meeting. Malfoy still had his Divination class, so we couldn't meet Dumbledore until after classes were over.

I made my way to my seat in the library, grabbing a book on mood-altering potions as I went, intent on studying some extra details for next potions class.

Studying was always the one activity that relaxed me, but today it just wasn't working. Every time I got into my book, my mind would wander to what Dumbledore's reaction would be. Would he be angry? Would he be calm? Helpful? Distrustful? The sheer amount of variables that could go one way or another at the meeting made me want to tear my hair out.

Eventually, I just ended up sitting with the book on my lap, watching the clock on the nearby wall tick, as seconds became minutes, and minutes drew closer and closer to the meeting.

With fifteen minutes to go, I stood up, tripping on my bag's strap, and stashed my book in its rightful place.

I walked the path to Dumbledore's office and paced in front of the doors, waiting for Malfoy to show.

After 10 minutes and nearly 200 paces, I spotted the blond making his way down the corridor.

"Hey," he said, joining me at the gargoyle that guarded the office.

"Hey yourself," I answered back, "ready to do this?"

Malfoy nodded, his face set with determination, as I gave the password to the gargoyle and we climbed the stair to Dumbledore's office.

Upon receiving an "enter" to my knock, I took a deep breath and opened the door.


	8. In Which Many Words Are Spoken

I entered Dumbledore's office first, hiding Malfoy from view.

"Er, hi sir," I started, standing in the doorway. "I wanted to talk to you about a… situation, with someone else."

Dumbledore smiled welcomingly, "Absolutely Ms. Granger, please come in."

I hesitated a second, then entered, seating myself on one of Dumbledore's cushy chairs in front of his desk. I watched Dumbledore's face for a reaction when Malfoy entered. Aside from a slightly raised eyebrow, Dumbledore gave no other outward signs.

Malfoy seated himself beside me, and Dumbledore's other eyebrow rose a bit.

He chuckled, "Mr. Malfoy, this is a surprise. What brings you here, in the acquaintance of Ms. Granger?"

Malfoy fidgeted minutely. It wasn't the kind of thing you could notice overtly; after all, Malfoy wasn't one to wear his emotions on his sleeve. But after two weeks of being around him, I could pick up on his nervousness. While Malfoy didn't display emotions, nervousness was the one that seemed the most difficult for him to hide. He tucked his hands under his legs, sitting on his hands, turning his shoulder in and hunching the slightest bit.

"Well," I started, because it looked unlikely that Malfoy would, "Malfoy has had a recent change of allegiance. And we- er, he, was looking for some assistance."

From there, I explained the situation of the past few days, and Malfoy hesitantly interjected some finer details.

I looked at him when we came to the point of the story about him on the dark side and his task, silently wondering if it was okay to tell Dumbledore more.

Malfoy seemed to think it over a moment, as we both thought, Dumbledore chuckled again.

"Does this have anything to do with Mr. Malfoy's induction into the Death Eaters' ranks, and his subsequent assignment to kill me?"

In perfect synchrony, our jaws dropped open.

Again in perfect unison, "You knew about that?" We yelled.

Dumbledore continued smiling serenely.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, your activities among the Death Eaters has been brought to my attention."

"But how?" Malfoy demanded, as we both remained shocked.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, "I have my sources."

I shook my head, amazed at Dumbledore yanking the rug out from under our feet, completely hijacking the facts we had been so concerned about.

But of course, I was so happy Malfoy and I didn't have to explain facts that did not shed the best light on him.

"Well sir," I started, shaking myself out of my stupor, "we don't exactly know how to proceed from here. That is to say that we don't know how to get done what we need to do. We have a plan, I suppose, which is to make sure Malfoy doesn't go back to the fold of the Dark Side and stays protected from them, and to get Mrs. Malfoy to safety. Er, and somewhere Mr. Malfoy fits in there."

Malfoy added, "The threat from the Dark Lor-er, You Know Who, is directly on me and my mother, to keep my father in line. I don't know his position, as my father rarely discussed things like that with me, but it's safe to say that if my mother and I disappear from the radar of the Dark Side, there will be repercussions brought down on my father."

He paused for a moment, and Dumbledore chose the pause to speak up.

"Do you want that, Draco?"

Malfoy and I exchanged slightly bewildered glances at Dumbledore's seeming non-sequitur.

"What do you mean, sir?" Malfoy spoke up.

Dumbledore looked unusually serious, dropping the amused and jolly disposition he'd had so far in the meeting.

"Do you want repercussions brought down on your father? It is his actions that have put you in this position."

Draco looked startled at being put on the spot, apparently having not considered this evaluation of the situation. "Well, um, I guess it was his fault, to some degree that this is happening, but it's really not my father's choice. You-Know-Who assigns these things and only gave me this job because my father failed at one that was, really, nearly impossible, all things considered. I blame my father for getting involved with the Death Eaters general, but not for this specific case, I guess."

Malfoy fidgeted uncomfortably as Dumbledore's dead serious eyes pierced Malfoy's grey ones.

I was about to speak up to clear the uncomfortable air that had developed when Dumbledore suddenly leaned back in his cushy chair, a wide smile stretching across his mouth and the twinkle returning to his eyes.

"Sorry for the interrogation, Mr. Malfoy, but I did have to test for myself if your plea was sincere."

Malfoy looked as I felt, torn between outrage and relief at our batty Headmaster's tactics.

Dumbledore leaned forward, regarding us. "So Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger, how do you both intend to move forward from this point."

"Well sir," I started, "I was hoping you'd be able to help us with getting Mrs. Malfoy to a safehouse, after we come up with a plan on how to get her onboard with all this, and allowing Malfoy, that is, Draco, to stay at a safehouse for school breaks. Oh, while providing both of them with some level of safety and protection from the Dark Side too, I guess."

Dumbledore smiled at me, as if he was proud of me. "I will be here to assist you both with all these endeavours. I would like nothing more than to have you and your mother, Draco, on our side. Ms. Granger, you seem to have everything well in hand. I would appreciate it if you would continue to assist Mr. Malfoy with his predicament, and I shall be available to you both if you need help with anything beyond your power."

I blushed at the unexpected praise.

Dumbledore continued, "Ms. Granger, have you discussed this situation with your friends, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley?"

My pleased smile was wiped off my face by Dumbledore's question.

"Well, I, er, haven't yet, that is, I will, just at the proper time."

Dumbledore smiled again, "That's fine, my dear, all in good time."

We then thanked Dumbledore, and promised to be in contact when we established the next step of our plan, then bid him goodbye.

Malfoy and I left the office, and I was in a daze about everything that had just happened. We descended the stairs, and I was about to exit into the hallway when Malfoy stopped me with a hand on my arm.

"Meet me in the Room of Requirement?" he asked.

I smiled and nodded, then watched him leave as I waited the standard five minutes before I could follow, so we didn't arouse suspicion.

I was beyond happy that the meeting had gone alright. I admittedly had expected much worse. I glanced around me, making sure I was completely alone, then broke out into a happy dance. I jumped and twirled, waving my arms around spasmodically. My relief at everything being okay had to be expressed someway, and I doubted Malfoy would appreciate a tackle-hug, which was my other reaction to release situational happiness.

I ended my happy dance, taking a deep breath to compose myself to meet Malfoy. The only remnant of my excessive joy was the wide smile that remained on my face.


	9. In Which We Par-Tay

I paced the floor then watched the door to the Room of Requirement materialize. I pulled the heavy door open and once again found myself in that ornate blue room where we had first met. I was just as enchanted by the room this time as I was when I first saw it. It was just so _pretty_.

Malfoy was standing by the couch, watching my arrival with a serious expression. I stopped in front of him on my way to the couch, as it looked like he had something to say.

I tilted my head to the side, asking him without words what was up.

Malfoy cleared his throat, and then swallowed twice. Then cleared his throat again. I rolled my eyes at his drama queen behaviour.

"Er, Granger? Thanks for… everything."

I smiled at him, "No probmelo Malfoy. It wasn't a trouble," I said, continuing on my way to the couch.

Malfoy caught my wrist, stopping me as I tried to walk by. "No, Granger, you don't get it. _Thank you_. You did so much that I never expected, and I'm grateful, truly I am."

I quirked a grin at his strangely serious behaviour, "really Malfoy, it's no problem. I wanted to help."

He looked frustrated, like I wasn't getting his point. Then he let go of my wrist and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest.

"Seriously Granger," he said, resting his chin on top of my head, "no Slytherin would have ever done what you've done for me. In my world, the things you've been doing for me are unheard of. I'll never be able to repay you, but I will try. Believe me."

I had frozen stiff when Malfoy had wrapped his arms around me, but after hearing what he was saying, I tentatively wrapped my arms around him as well, resting my forehead against his chest. It was really cozy.

Up till this point I had kind of kept my space from Malfoy. I mean, I knew he wasn't a danger to me, if he was he would have done something the first time we were alone, in that bathroom, or used one of the countless times we'd been alone since then to spring whatever evil plan he could think of.

But I'd still kept my space because I wasn't sure of him. I loved facts and logic, and Malfoy had blown all the facts and knowledge I had on him out of the water the instant he had accepted my help. Now I had no clue where I stood with him. We certainly weren't enemies anymore. Were we friends? It seemed strange to even fathom, being friends with Malfoy, the heart of my childhood torment. But here we were, hugging it out after successfully saving Malfoy's skin. What a world.

Eventually we were pulled from our moment by the school's loud bell signalling that it was dinnertime. The sound brought us back to reality, and we pulled apart, blushing a bit, not having realized we'd been essentially holding each other.

As always, I plowed through the awkward moment, pointedly ignoring how awkward it was.

"I think," I began, "we should have a party. A little party, just you and me!"

Malfoy looked disbelievingly at me, "really, a party?"

I refused to let him ruin my idea. "Yes. You'll just have to bear the Gryffindor way of celebrating and such."

"What are we celebrating?"

I leveled a glare at the uncooperative boy in front of me, "We are celebrating everything not going down the shitter today. That a good a holiday as any."

Malfoy chuckled, "Sure Granger, we'll celebrate that the 'Gryffindor way'"

I raised an eyebrow, "Well what's the Slytherin way of celebrating."

Malfoy thought for a minute, then completely deadpan responded "Alcohol."

I scoffed and threw my hands up in frustration, and Malfoy laughed outrageously at me.

* * *

In a matter of half an hour, I had the room set up to party. I didn't want to completely get rid of the gorgeous room, so instead I moved some of the more cumbersome furniture out of the way, and upon a thought, a CD player materialized. It didn't seem to run on electricity or anything, but I just shrugged it off.

I left space wide open for dancing, because I loved to dance, though I was balls at it. I had set up the couch area to eat as well, and had sent Malfoy to the kitchen for food, which he begrudgingly agreed to fetch.

While he was gone I focused again, and with another thought a TV appeared across the couch with a GameCube. Malfoy would definitely get an education in muggle ways today.

Soon enough he returned, shaking his head at the balloons I'd arranged around the room (in blue to match the room and to carefully keep house politics out of all of this).

He held the boxes of food, looking around, then asked, "Granger, where's the dining table?"

I shook my head at the pureblood blueblood, and took a few of the boxes from him. "We're eating whilst sitting on the couch, you priss."

He looked offended, probably both at the common way of eating and because, well, I had called him a priss, so that might have something to do with it too.

I sat down on the sofa and patted the spot beside me insistently.

After an exaggerated eye roll, he sat down, pulling out the boxes of food. I opened them to reveal pasta puttanesca, with garlic bread and a pie.

I stared at the pie in disbelief for a moment.

"Malfoy?" I asked.

"Hmm?" He responded, as he pulled his tie off, resting it beside him on the couch.

"Is this an apple pie with gruyere cheese baked into the crust?" I said, staring at it in wonder.

He looked up suddenly from where he was fiddling with his sweater.

"Actually yeah, it is. How did you know?"

"That is by far my absolute favourite pie," I said, as I leaned forward to smell it.

"It's... mine too. Stop sniffing it Granger, that's weird."

I stuck my tongue out at him. "Do we have something in… common?"

"An obscure and specific taste in pie? Seems like it."

"Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin are definitely spinning in their graves."


	10. In Which We Daaaaaaaaaance!

After we finished up our food (but decided to save the pie for later in the evening, when we were hungry again), I pulled Malfoy up from where he was lounging and dragged him over to my makeshift dancefloor.

"What do you think you're doing, Granger?" Malfoy demanded.

"It's time to dance!" I responded, excited.

"Oh no, Malfoys don't dance, definitely not."

"Oh come on, it'll be fun!"

He stayed resolute, however, and I gave up on him, refusing to let him spoil my dancing mood.

I pressed the play button of the CD player, and it started to play music from my favourite Broadway Musical, Hairspray, which I'd seen on a family trip once to New York.

I pranced to the centre of the dancefloor, closed my eyes, and let the music carry my upbeat dancing.

"_You can't stop an avalanche as it races down the hill…" _

I jumped and spun and jived, uncaring of everything around me, just letting my happiness transfer through my movement. Plus I really loved the song.

"…_I was lost until I heard the drums and I found my way…" _

Half way through the song, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Turning around and opening my eyes, I realized Malfoy was standing behind me with his hand out and a half-smile on his face.

"I thought Malfoys can't dance?" I asked.

"I said we don't dance, not that we can't. And after seeing you move, there's no way I could do worse."

I slapped his shoulder for his comment and accepted his hand. He immediately twirled me around, and then placed his other hand on my waist, expertly swinging, twirling and jiving with me.

I laughed with pure unadulterated glee, which caused a broad smile to stretch across Malfoy's face, which looked different in some way.

After a few more swings and shimmies, it hit me that what looked different about Malfoy was that he looked so carefree. Never had I seen Malfoy displaying his emotions so much, willingly dancing in an incredibly upbeat way.

He was a surprisingly great dancer for someone so reluctant to partake, and soon we were collapsed on the couch trying to catch our breath.

"Hey, Malfoy?" I started, turning to him, "Why, or how, are you so okay with all of this?"

"With what?"

I shrugged, "I don't know, all of this. Hanging out with me, willingly associating with Mudbloods, Blood Traitors, and Gryffindors. The Malfoy I knew a year ago would never, ever even consider even looking at me, much less dancing and having fun."

"Things have changed since last year. Before, the Dark Side was my side, but now that it's been, well, less than ideal, to say the least, I've realized that my opinion hasn't changed, I haven't changed, but my situation has. Or rather, my situation made me realize exactly what side I should be on. I'm not a murderer. I don't want to serve a cruel Lord for the rest of my life; I don't even want muggleborns eradicated. Okay, maybe my opinion has changed, but that's because I've seen how the Dark Side treats the people they hate, and it's sick and cruel and wrong, and I've only been a member for a couple of months. While I've never been accepting of muggleborns at Hogwarts, killing their entire families? I just- I can't be on that side. Not one second longer."

I could tell that Malfoy had been thinking about this for a while, and needed no response from me, so I just sat there, and took his hand in mine, trying to be a comforting silence.

* * *

After mulling things over a bit longer, Malfoy turned to me, "So what else have you got planned for this "party", or is this it?"

I jumped up, "You haven't seen anything yet! The best is yet to come!"

I switched on the TV and GameCube and we had a rousing time playing Super Smash Bros Brawl. Malfoy didn't really understand video games and the controllers at first, but eventually he was playing like an old pro. He picked Bowser, claiming that his size alone would be simple against my Kirby, but as is character proceeded to fall 4 times off the platform, a change was necessary. Soon Malfoy found a new favourite in Link and we were enthusiastically playing, yelling abuse at each other and rejoicing far too much in our victories, while not taking losses well.

Soon enough we ended our game in favour of our pie. It was the perfect end to a perfect day, as I relaxed, enjoying my tasty pie and the company of a surprisingly enjoyable Slytherin.


	11. In Which I Shop and See Things

After the meeting with Dumbledore actually going well and being able to chill with Malfoy, I felt surprisingly light and non-stressed. This was not a usual feeling for me, and my stress over my classes usually kept me on edge. But now it was like nothing could faze me. I loved the natural high success gave me, even if I knew there was still a long road ahead of us.

Saturday morning I nearly bounded down the staircase that led to the girls' dorms. Harry, Ron and I were dressed in our light jackets, and were ready to brave the still chilly April day at Hogsmeade Village. When I reached them, the boys were eagerly chatting about the candy they would buy at Honeyduke's and the new whatever that was available at the Quidditch store. They asked me what I wanted to do that day, and I led them on a story of the Arithmancy texts I planned to buy, which was true. Artemis Sceptre had recently released her newest book and I was eager to get my hands on it.

I left out my other plans for the day, which were to find Malfoy and me devices that could be used to communicate discretely. Hogsmeade had a small jewelry store, and I was planning on searching there for that and a new pair of earrings for Ginny's birthday. Two birds, one stone and all that.

Upon reaching the bustling village, the boys and I made a beeline for Honeydukes, to fill up on our favourite sweets, and then I left them so they could pursue their Quidditch related shopping. My first stop was the jewelry store, where I perused the selection of bracelets. I found a wide leather cuff that would look inconspicuous on Malfoy, and found myself a pretty silver bangle, that was sufficiently wide to fit words. That done, I was then examining the spread of earrings, when I looked up through the shop window and spotted Harry walking by. Curious that he wasn't with Ron, I leaned toward the window to get a better view, but Daphne Greengrass standing outside the store blocked my view of him.

"Can I help you, miss?" the shopkeeper looked puzzled as to why I was leaning over the earrings counter to look out the window.

I quickly straightened up with a blush and picked out the blue teardrop earrings that would suit Ginny well. When I exited the store Harry was nowhere to be seen, and so I shrugged it off. His actions weren't outside of the usual, as Harry might have wanted to buy something while Ron stayed at the Quidditch store.

The boys caught up to me a while later, as I was perusing the bookstore, and excitedly showed me their Quidditch related purchases. Despite my disinterest in Quidditch, their enthusiasm was contagious, and I found myself grinning along with them.

Our glee was interrupted by the voice of Theodore Nott, as he and a group of Slytherins advanced on us.

As he, with Pucey and Bulstrode, traded insults with Harry and Ron, I noticed a strange division in their group. Usually when the Slytherins bullied us, one insulted while the others grinned smugly, or they all ganged up on us and goaded us. Today, Nott, Pucey, and Bulstrode were doing the insulting as Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, and Blaise Zabini hung towards the back of the group, not participating. Zabini I wasn't surprised at, he didn't usually say much. But Greengrass usually had plenty of mean glares, and today she wouldn't meet any of our eyes. Parkinson would have usually jumped on the chance to participate in Gryffindor-baiting, but today she hung back and actually looked rather ill.

I wondered what was going on with them, and all the Slytherins. While Nott, Pucey, and Bulstrode were bullies, they usually weren't the ones instigating the bullying. That was usually the job of Malfoy, with the rest sneering and staying out of it, or backing Malfoy up. His absence left a strange shift in power today.

It seemed that without meaning to, his defection was making waves with the other Slytherins. I hoped no one had noticed anything too much, I didn't want there to be too many problems for Malfoy with his fellow Slytherins. As well, I hoped no Slytherins were the reporting back to The Dark Lord type. The last thing we needed was for You-Know-Who to be suspecting Malfoy now.

* * *

The next day over breakfast I managed to convey the message to Malfoy to meet me in the Room of Requirement using an elaborate system of subtle head and eye gestures.

The previous evening I had easily cast my spells on the bracelets and all that was left was to conduct a bit of test to see if they worked.

Malfoy stood and left the hall discretely tapping his watch at me. I understood what he was trying to convey and waited the same five minutes as always for him to get there.

When I arrived, I was greeted by the same beautiful, enchanting room as always. Even though I was used to seeing it, it was still the most gorgeous room I'd ever seen, and so it never got old.

With minimal chitchat, Malfoy had the bracelet on his wrist.

"So how does this thing work?"

"Well," I started, "You'll need to hold it between two fingers of the opposite hand and loudly think the sentence you want me to know. Try to keep it short though. The bracelets are only so long."

Malfoy nodded, and then grasped his bracelet. After a beat, I felt my bracelet grow warm. Not enough to be painful, but enough for me to notice immediately. On the top face of it, the words '_Hi Granger_' were scrawled in a neat but spiky black script.

Malfoy glanced at my bracelet, "That's cool, it's in my writing."

I grasped mine, and watched with him as small loopy letters spelled out '_Whattup Malfoy'_ across the black bracelet in a dark grey script.

"Wow, nicely done Granger. I've never seen anything like these before." Malfoy said, examining his cuff closely.

I was momentarily startled, and then beamed at his praise. "Thanks, I used a few modified spells…"

I continued explaining to Malfoy, who surprisingly listened attentively and even asked a few questions.

We then moved to the couches and continued talking, switching to the topic of what we wanted to do about Mrs. Malfoy.

We needed to contact her someway. An owl was very risky, but the best way to reach her without putting ourselves at risk. Floo was dangerous because if we floo'd Malfoy manor, Draco's father could be the one to answer.

"and we wouldn't want your father spoiling the plan, would we?" I said.

Malfoy looked thoughtful, "Or you-know-who or the Death Eaters."

I looked at him strangely, "why would they answer your floo?"

"They're staying there."

I nearly fell off the sofa. "Why would the… are they all LIVING at your HOUSE?"

Malfoy nodded, looking as calm as if I'd merely asked him if he liked Quidditch, not like he admitted to knowing where the most dangerous wizard in the world was housed.

"Wait wait wait. Let me get this right. Your mother is at Malfoy Manor."

"Yes…"

"And we have to get her out."

"Well ideally, yes"

"And the entirety of the Dark side is also at Malfoy Manor."

"Well not all of them. Some of them have their own houses."

I ignored Malfoy's snark, "And so we have to get your mother out of the house crawling with Death Eaters and their Lord himself."

Malfoy looked at me strangely as I felt like I would pass out.

This plan just gotten about a million times harder.


End file.
